


Trying to burn the night away

by failurebydesign



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 04:29:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failurebydesign/pseuds/failurebydesign
Summary: “So Ibiza, then Barcelona,” Luc says, looking over the itinerary that’s typed up on his phone. “Maybe somewhere else if the beaches suck.”“In Spain?” Tito mock gasps. “Impossible.”( Or Tito and Luc enjoy their time in Ibiza. )





	Trying to burn the night away

**Author's Note:**

> If you found this upon googling, exit immediately. This is a complete work of fiction and in no way am I implying that anything written in here is true. Stories are not meant to be circulated or shared with those written in them. All is loosely based on some real events, that is all.
> 
> I decided to keep this one short and open ended to test the waters with this pairing. This is so that if need be, I can expand on this universe in the future.
> 
> Way too many people read this before it was finished, cheered me on, beta'd, etc and I know I say this every time, but thank you all! Your feedback (even the keysmashes) keep me inspired and each and everyone one of you are amazing. I want to list you all, but i'll feel really badly if I forget someone so just know that if you even so much as heard me yelling about this on twitter before it was finished, I appreciate you!

**PROLOGUE**

Worlds ends on a particularly low note with the Canadian team placing fourth, just short of a medal. Luc is frustrated, but he and Tito have a trip booked to Ibiza and there’s nothing like sun and sand to forget a disappointing loss.

He has a hard time convincing Chabby to come along, who spends the last evening of the tournament hiding away in his room and when not even Tito— who is equally crushed if not more— can’t coerce Chabby out, he knows it’s a lost cause.

“So Ibiza, then Barcelona,” Luc says, looking over the itinerary that’s typed up on his phone. “Maybe somewhere else if the beaches suck.”

“In Spain?” Tito mock gasps. “Impossible.”

Luc shrugs, setting down his phone. “Anything is possible with alcohol.”

“Yeah, like a threesome or something. This is _Ibiza_ ,” Tito stresses. “And I’m sure there’s going to be plenty of sucking, if you know what I mean.”

Laughing, Luc shakes his head, because he’d be lying if he said hadn’t thought about what a hot zone Ibiza is in the world of hooking up.

“Who’s sucking what now?” Ryan Murray catches just the tail end of it all, laughing when he sits down across from Luc.

“You for not coming to Ibiza,” Luc says, rolling his eyes.

“You for going to Ibiza,” Ryan says back.

Tito rolls his eyes. “I’d say get a room, but we booked one without you,” he reminds Ryan, a smile forming at the end.

Luc catches the look on Ryan’s face— incredulous, laced with disappointment. Ibiza started off as a joke and Luc didn’t actually plan on going until Tito approaches him in the locker room after a tough game, arms in the air and shouting, “Fuck it, Ibiza!” 

It isn’t Luc’s fault that Ryan’s family decides on staying in Denmark a little longer once the tournament ends and it especially isn’t his fault that Ryan’s too nice to tell them otherwise. 

So as it stands, it’s Luc, Tito, two of their closest friends and most importantly, Ibiza.

..

As it turns out, Ibiza is, as expected, a constant party. There’s drinks on the plane, drinks as soon as they’re off of the plane and once they hit the beach, even more drinks. Tito passes them out like they’re candy and Luc, happy to be anywhere other than Denmark, graciously accepts.

There’s no hooking up— just Luc passing out at the end of his bed the first night, waking up to Tito laughing at his friend who didn’t even make it that far.

“He’s asleep in the fucking doorway,” Tito says, laughing harder when Luc sits up, rubbing his eyes.

“No shit?” Luc squints and yeah, there’s a half-dressed French Canadian curled up in front of the door that separates the two rooms.

“Do it all again?” Tito asks, opening a water bottle and holding it over his friend’s head.

“Definitely.”

When the water trickles down and Tito’s friend shouts, Luc just about rolls out of bed with laughter.

And, as promised, they _do_ do it all again.

That night ends up more eventful that the first. Luc doesn’t remember getting back to his room, just Tito laughing, dancing— sort of, and then doing one last shot with their group of friends. It’s loud, it’s fun, it’s fast. 

And then, suddenly, it’s quiet and he’s back in his hotel room, sitting on the bed.

“ _Luc_.” Tito appears from around the corner with a bottle of water and a smile.

He bites his lip, remembering a bit more— standing in a dark corner, Tito’s hands at his hips, whispering something dirty enough in French to get him out of there pretty quickly. What he doesn’t remember is falling asleep.

 _Fuck_ , Luc thinks when Tito sits at the edge of the bed, pushing the cold, damp water bottle into Luc’s hand. They didn’t do anything— both still in their swim trunks— and he’s pretty sure that ship has sailed, until he empties half of the bottle and Tito crawls into bed next to him.

“You good?” Tito’s close, breath hot against his neck.

“Yeah,” Luc decides when his memory all comes back full circle to Tito, compliant and kissing him beneath his weight.

“Can we kiss some more?” Tito smiles when he asks. It’s innocent with a hint of something more.

 _More_ , Luc thinks and barely registers the nod of his head that follows.

But then, “Wait,” Luc asks and Tito responds, raising his gaze. “Where are the other two?”

“Other room,” Tito says with a little laugh. “They thought you were gonna puke and wanted nothing to do with that. Assholes.”

 _Good enough_ , Luc thinks, leaning in.

It starts with one kiss.

Tito’s palm rests against Luc’s knee and there’s a slight push when Tito’s back curves and their mouths slide together. The faint taste of liquor reminds him how they got to this point and Luc wonders of it’s possible to become intoxicated on a kiss alone.

Luc allows Tito to take the lead, lost in how easy it is to kiss someone who is nothing less than enthusiastic and fits neatly between his legs.

Tito moves quickly, slides down between Luc’s thighs and looks up with hooded eyes. Fingers splayed over one and squeezing sightly, Tito presses a kiss to Luc’s second thigh. He laughs, softly, and Luc’s head spins at the thought of what’s to come, if anything.

“Thought we were, you know, bumble,” Luc says, breath quickening when Tito’s mouth trails several soft kisses over and along his inner thigh.

It was the plan, he thought, until Tito, drunk and stumbling convinced him otherwise. Because, in Luc’s world, kisses are fun and friendly and it’s not usual when you’re keyed up and rooming with a bunch of guys. This— a series of small touches and kisses that work their way up into little nips of sensitive spots of his skin that make his breath hitch— it’s something more.

Tito stops where the fabric of Luc’s shorts end, grinning against the skin. “Too much work.”

Which makes little sense, because it’s Ibiza and there’s single people all over the place looking to have a good time. He’s already had his own phone die twice that night alone amidst trying to set up his own hookup.

But Tito’s phone isn’t nearby, or so Luc doesn’t see it. All he sees are blue eyes, messy hair and a mysterious smile when he looks down— all he feels his a little bit of warmth and stubble against his bare skin.

“We can just—” Tito mumbles against the inside curve of Luc’s thigh. “Make our own fun.”

Tito settles comfortably in to the space between Luc’s legs, slides a hand up one leg and practically nuzzles his dick when he leans in, laughing like he didn’t mean to do it.

“Fucker.” Luc knows better. He reaches down, a bit blindly, and his hand finds Tito’s shoulder, Tito’s neck, Tito’s hair— Tito, drunk and happy and not just nuzzling— _palming_ his dick through his swim shorts, making Luc’s breath hitch.

Tito makes an amused sound. “Probably the one being fucked in this case.”

“Oh?” Luc shifts, sitting up slightly, Tito’s fingertips hooking into the waistband of his shorts. He’s always known Tito to be a bit bold at times, unabashed and coy all at once in a way that always without a doubt gets him laid. Luc would be jealous, normally, but Tito gives this small laugh, as if to say, “ _oops_ ” and knows instantly that he, too, has fallen for Tito’s charm.

“Yeah.” Tito ducks his head, in an attempt to be coy. He pulls the waistband and Luc winces, expecting to feel the hard snap against his skin that never comes.

Luc thought he knews Tito— knows better than to fall for his fake innocence, though admittedly didn’t know hooking up with guys was a _thing_ he actually did. He’s seen Tito at work, at clubs and bars and knows Tito’s good at getting what he wants.

It’s convenient, Luc thinks, when Tito yanks down his shorts, that Luc wants it, too.

“Okay.” Luc swallows. _Hard_.

“Okay,” Tito parrots, tossing the discarded shorts over his shoulder, his own shorts quickly following suit.

Tito straddles Luc’s hips, legs bracketing him in, hard and pressing into the thigh he was kissing just minutes earlier. Luc’s hips raise and if he was dizzy from alcohol earlier, that’s faded away, replaced by something else that he can’t quite place his finger on.

But then Tito has his fingers on _him_ , curling around his dick and stroking him lazily. It’s a bit rougher than he likes and then Tito pulls back, spitting in his hand and Luc doesn’t even care if it’s a little disgusting because it feels _that_ good.

“Shit.” Luc bites his lip, grabbing Tito by the wrist to halt him. He doesn’t want to admit just how embarrassingly close he already is and opts to hold his breath until Tito gets the hint and pulls his hand away.

He runs his hand down Luc’s leg, presses a soft kiss to his knee and then slides up and off of the mattress. Tito doesn’t go far and comes back seconds later with a condom, a packet of lube and a proud grin.

Luc releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Tito climbs back up, mattress sinking beneath the weight of his body.

“Do you still wanna?” Tito tilts his head slightly when he asks and then his hand is back around Luc’s dick, making his hips jerk up shamefully.

“What do you think?” Luc forces his hips down against the mattress, aiming to keep his cool for as long as possible. Tito, of course, snorts.

Luc’s left a bit dazed when Tito snakes a lube-slicked hand between his legs and presses a single digit into himself. He bites down on his bottom lip and though Luc can’t see it all, knows by the rocking motion of Tito’s arm and the soft, short gasps that follow that he’s making sure he’s fully prepared for what’s next.

“Fuck, almost,” Tito says under his breath and Luc knows he’s added a second finger, arm twisting and elbow out slightly.

Luc runs a hand down Tito’s chest, curious how many times he’s done _this_ — with _who_ — and if it’s the first time he’s done it this trip. He closes his eyes for a several seconds, when watching becomes too much. When he opens them again, Tito has his hands on either side of Luc’s lap, flat against the mattress.

“I’m ready.” Tito leans in, presses his mouth to the underside of Luc’s chin, lingering for a moment. He stays there, head dipping and kissing the hollow of Luc’s neck next, one hand traveling down the sheets to retrieve the lube. Tito has it down to a science— kissing and nibbling his way along, teeth sinking into Luc’s collarbone the exact moment hand messily smears a bit of lube over Luc’s dick.

Breath hitching, Luc’s hips roll up for a second time and this time, he lets them, enjoying the drag of Tito’s motions that grow smooth with each methodical stroke. 

“Dude,” Luc says, voice sounding slightly more desperate than he’s hoping for.

Tito hums, gripping at the base of Luc’s dick to roll on a condom and when he lines himself up, Luc’s brain does something that doesn’t allow him to focus on anything else other than _oh— this is actually happening_.

“Can I?” Tito asks, as if Luc practically rutting into his hand isn’t any indication.

“ _Please_.” Any dignity Luc has left flies out the window the second Tito sinks down onto him, their mouth parting slightly in unison.

Neither move— Luc waiting until Tito makes a sound so low, so _needy_ that Luc _can’t_ stay still any longer. He presses his fingertips into Tito’s thigh, thumb moving in small circles, urging Tito to continue.

When Tito does move, he angles himself forward, hips rocking at a painfully slow pace, only moving faster when Luc’s breathing begins to pick up. It’s then Luc realizes that Tito craves encouragement.

“More,” Luc coaxes and it’s the first time he moans, flipping a switch that ignites something within Tito who does, immediately, as he’s told.

“Like that?” Tito hips move quickly, in one fluid movement, causing an involuntary reaction within Luc. He elicits a long, soft moan when he lifts up the first time, only for their bodies to collide in a hasty motion.

Luc moans again, mumbles, “Fuck, yes,” and when he grips Tito’s hips, he is pretty sure there’s going to be bruises there tomorrow.

When Tito groans, head back and mouth open, Luc palms at his dick, stroking him through each and every push and pull, bodies taught and Tito growing breathier by the minute. 

“So close, fuck,” Tito says, shaky when he tilts his hips, rolling them down, quick and unsteady. His movements grow sloppier and he slumps forward, just enough that Luc has to abandon his dick, gripping his hips once more to keep him going. 

“C’mon,” Luc encourages, giving one hip a squeeze and when Tito slows down, he holds him there, taking over, hips rolling up into him with quick, sharp thrusts. It seems to be working, Tito’s head ducking, moaning in absolute bliss, until his knees wobble again.

In one swift change of position, Luc turns Tito over, presses his back into the mattress and finds himself between his thighs. Tito follows through, hooking an ankle around Luc when he slips back inside, fucking those beautiful sounds out of Tito once more.

With one hand, firm against Tito’s chest, Luc gets his hand around Tito’s dick once more.

“Luc, don’t stop.” Tito just about whines it and Luc almost comes then and there. His fists clench, moan so low— so guttural, that Luc knows he’s reached the brink. Panting, arching, blunt nails into Luc’s back, Tito’s hips rock upwards and Luc knows he’s close. “I’m, fuck, I’m coming.”

Luc’s first thought _is_ to stop— to focus on Tito who tightens around him, groaning when his come spills into Luc’s hand. His breath shudders, too, watching Tito’s face soften as he strokes him through the final waves.

Tito pushes out one more breath when Luc pulls out of him, hand resting over Luc’s while he frantically jerks himself off, chasing his own orgasm. Luc comes, quickly, and when he drops his hand, Tito continues to caress him until he’s sensitive. 

They don’t bother to clean up just yet and once Tito wipes his hand on the sheet, Luc decides it doesn’t really matter. Luc frees Tito, rolling onto his back, eyes closed, body slightly sore and yet oh-so-satisfied. The last thing Luc remembers, before drifting off to sleep, is the soft brushing of Tito’s fingertips that trail against his chest.

..

It’s early morning when Luc wakes up, Tito’s face pressed against his shoulder. He doesn't remember getting under the covers and thinks that Tito must have pulled a sheet over the two of them before falling asleep.

His slight movement must wake Tito, who nuzzles into his shoulder some more, scratchy from stubble and yet comforting. 

“You’re still here?” Luc doesn’t mean to sound surprised, it’s just— hookups don’t often stay.

He expects Tito to be offended, but then Tito laughs against his skin, murmuring, “Asshole.”

They stay in bed for another hour, exchanging slow, lazy kisses that build up until Tito is between Luc’s thighs again, mouth hollowing around his dick in what Luc is pretty sure is the best blowjob he’s ever received.

Afterwards, while Tito is in the shower, Luc tidies up the room. The group has lunch by the pool, drinks on the beach and it becomes, for Luc, another day of fun, sun and Tito. 

When they make it to Barcelona the following day, Tito convinces them to rent a decent sized suite that they can all share.

“How is literally anyone supposed to hook up if there's only two bedrooms?” Tito’s friend asks. Luc thinks he makes a good point.

“Get creative,” Tito says, giving Luc a secretive grin.

And they do.

It’s how Tito ends up bent over the shower bench that Luc is so, so thankful exists in a shower that’s unnecessarily large for one person, anyway. Tito joining him is just making use of the extra space, he tells himself.

“Fuck, harder!” Tito’s moan echoes within the shower and when the slaps his palm against the wet bench, loudly, Luc has to reach around and cup his hand over Tito’s mouth to quiet him.

“Not so— fuck— loud,” Luc has to remind Tito, because there’s literally a group of guys sleeping in the bedroom on the other side of the wall. Still, he obliges, fucking Tito hard and fast until he’s a rocking mess beneath him.

Afterwards, Tito laughs into Luc’s mouth while they let the water rinse away any evidence left behind.

It’s an amazing trip— one of the best Luc’s had.

..

Luc checks his bags and when he turns back around, Tito is smiling, having just done the same. He’s pretty sure it’s the first time in a week Tito put a shirt on, and it’s only because the airport is a little more strict than the beach.

Going home sounds amazing— Luc misses his family and seeing them is always a plus, even if he feels a little bad that he’s returning without a medal. 

Tito is excited, too, or so Luc thinks, by how he spends half of their time waiting to board talking about all of the upcoming charity events he has planned. Luc smiles, because Tito can be a bit much— over enthusiastic and loud, but he also possesses one of the biggest hearts on any guy he knows.

It makes saying goodbye much harder than he expected.

They fly back to Montreal together, which is nice, prolonging their time together. Tito falls asleep against Luc’s shoulder and the other guys give them shit for it, but Luc doesn’t care. He’s happy— soaking in as much of Tito as he can.

The second unexpected moment comes when the plane descends and Tito catches Luc’s hand in his own.

“Home,” Tito says, smiling wide.

“Kinda missed it.” Luc squeezes Tito’s hand when he speaks.

Tito’s smile dissipates when a loud whirring comes from within the plane, wheels out. He’s quiet their entire walk to baggage claim and his friend must know something is up, keeping his distance.

“Excited to be home? Bet your family missed you,” Luc says when they find the correct belt, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“I’ll miss you.”

Luc laughs, because it takes him by surprise. They have a history before Ibiza— before _Denmark_ , as good friends, past tournament teammates and NHLers who always make it a point to hang out when their teams play one another. That’s how it’s been— _Friends_.

He’ll miss his _friend_ , too, he thinks.

“Yeah man, I’ll miss you, too. It was fun.”

“We should do it again next summer,” Tito says.

Luc sees Tito’s arm move pretty certain he’s about to grab his hand again, but then there’s that loud alarm that sounds right before the belt begins to move. In that moment, Luc wishes he could freeze time. 

Tito spots his bags first, grabbing them about the same time his friend does. He doesn’t leave yet, though— just hangs back, waiting.

When Luc grabs his bag, they walk together towards their respective rides. They exchange awkward hugs at the curb and then, in a flash, Tito is whisked away by his mother who is just as loud and enthusiastic as he. Luc laughs when Tito shoots him a look that says _help_ in between his mother’s repeated cheek kisses.

“I’ll text you, man,” Tito says with a wave

Then he’s gone.

Luc takes a taxi back. He doesn’t mean to turn into some sad, brooding guy who watched his summer romance go back to school or something— it wasn’t like that. So why, Luc wonders, is he wishing he was the one kissing Tito’s face?

He leans his head against the window, closes his eyes and makes a mental note to never get invested in a hookup again.

Then, his phone buzzes.

It’s Tito.

_hang out next week?_

And Luc smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Title [inspo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1VzzNbfPaM).
> 
> Brief mentions of Tito and Luc's friends who tagged along— left nameless for obvious reasons. 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on twitter @ dejadejayou or titobeauvillier on tumblr!


End file.
